


Of Models and Motorcycles

by TheInsaneFox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, College Student Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mechanic Keith (Voltron), Model Shiro (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sugar Baby Keith (Voltron), Sugar Daddy Shiro (Voltron), making out in a car
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/pseuds/TheInsaneFox
Summary: The bike shines in her custom jet black paint job and Keith wonders why Shiro even needs him to work on it. The question must be written on his face because Shiro looks sheepish then as he turns her around so that the far side is now facing Keith.“Oh. Oh no.”The entire side is crushed, paint scraped off and various parts busted. Keith is already doing a rough estimation in his head, ticking off all the parts he’ll need and guessing only the beginning of what it will cost to fix.“Yeah. I uh…I got a little full of myself. Turns out I’m not skilled enough at driving it yet to experience the full extent of her horses.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	Of Models and Motorcycles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Levyscript](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levyscript/gifts).



> Ahhh I'm so glad to finally post my Sheithlentine's fic! I'm SO SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. Also, I PROMISE there is a part 2 in the works, so this isn't all of it!!
> 
> I went with your first prompt "Sugar Daddy Shiro and Sugar Baby Keith: Keith is a struggling student who works at a mechanic shop part-time because of school. Shiro, who is a model, needed his personal ride tuned up."
> 
> I hope you like it!! <3

It’s a hot day when Keith walks into the shop, probably one of the hottest ones yet this year. Late summer in Arizona has long settled in and has dug her merciless claws into her residents with her unforgiving heat. Keith swears that he is slowly dying with each drop of sweat that escapes from him as he makes the short walk from campus to the shop for his shift.

“Are we ever going to get the AC fixed?” He whines to Kolivan as he walks into the sweltering office and drops his bag next to the employee lockers.

“Sure, once we get some funds.” Kolivan grunts from behind his desk, papers scattered in front of him. 

Keith gives a dramatic sigh and instantly regrets it as he pulls out his coveralls. He can tell from the lines in Kolivan’s forehead and the set of his jaw that he’s stressing over bills again. Kolivan always swears that things are doing just fine, but Keith suspects it’s much worse than he lets on.

He punches his time card into the old fashioned style clock and turns to ask where he’s needed for the day, but Kolivan cuts him off. “I’ve got someone waiting and Ulaz is tied up with a busted alternator on Lotor’s monstrosity again. He should be right outside, can’t miss him.”

“Lotor is?” Keith can’t help himself from asking.

Kolivan looks up long enough to fix him with a  _ look _ . “No, you brat. The new client. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Keith holds up his fingers in a mock salute before heading out to start his shift. 

The shop is full of the usual organized chaos, with Ulaz working on Lotor’s stupid purple Lamborghini again, swearing loudly enough that Keith could hear him over the whir of the power tools. “How has this fucking moron not managed to blow the car up yet?” Ulaz snarls as Keith walks by. He has to bite his lip from adding onto that comment.

He walks around the corner and crashes into a brick wall of a person. A rapid apology spills from his lips before he even has a chance to see who it is, but the sound of a deep, rich laugh cuts him off.

Keith steps back, marveling at what he realizes is now the most solid wall of pectoral muscle he has ever encountered in his twenty-two years of life—even with it being in the confines of a form fitting black t-shirt that threatens to burst at the seams with every movement. There’s a voice attached to that spectacular chest, he notes, one that is talking to him, but he’s having a very hard time tearing his eyes away.

“Anyway, I hate to be awkward but uh, my face is up here.”

Oh shit. Keith immediately snaps his head up and is met with a pair of steel gray eyes, kind and tinged with laughter. 

Hell, his face is every bit as handsome as his chest. The tuft of white hair that hangs over his forehead and the scar over the bridge of his nose only add a rugged element to his attractiveness rather than detract from it—something Keith isn’t convinced would work on almost any other person.

“I’m Shiro.” The man says, sticking his hand out in greeting. Damn it, Keith really needs to focus.

Keith numbly takes the offered hand, only realizing after he’s grasped it and given it what he hopes is a firm shake that the arm is a prosthetic, made of a highly advanced material and technology Keith isn’t sure there’s even a name for yet.

“Keith.” He finally manages to croak out. “I’m Keith.”

The smile he gets from Shiro is devastating. “It’s great to meet you, Keith. I talked to Kolivan earlier about my bike—are you the guy to help me?”

Everything clicks into place as Keith realizes that Shiro must be the client Kolivan had sent him out to find. “Yeah, I’m your guy.” 

He doesn’t miss the way Shiro’s eyes go bigger at that.

Shiro recovers quickly, though, and nods his head in the direction of the parking lot. Keith follows, squinting in the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun. Shiro stops at a trailer that’s hooked up to a brand new truck, which alone has to be worth twice Keith’s annual tuition. But then he sees the bike sitting atop the trailer and he nearly has to pick his jaw off the ground.

Shiro jumps up onto the platform and immediately goes to work undoing the straps that hold it in place. Keith can’t help but stand there like an idiot, staring as Shiro finally wheels down the single most expensive motorcycle Keith has ever laid eyes on.

“Is that—“

“A Ducati Superlegerra V4? Damn right.”

The bike shines in her custom jet black paint job and Keith wonders why Shiro even needs him to work on it. The question must be written on his face because Shiro looks sheepish then as he turns her around so that the far side is now facing Keith.

“Oh. Oh no.”

The entire side is crushed, paint scraped off and various parts busted. Keith is already doing a rough estimation in his head, ticking off all the parts he’ll need and guessing only the beginning of what it will cost to fix.

“Yeah. I uh…I got a little full of myself. Turns out I’m not skilled enough at driving it yet to experience the full extent of her horses.”

Keith sighs and rubs his face with his hands. “This isn’t going to be an easy fix. Or cheap.”

Shiro shrugs. “I’m not worried about the cost. Do what you have to.”

That line from a customer is always suspicious to the ears of a service employee, but Keith makes a mental note to do a full inventory and send Shiro an estimate later. For now, he steps forward and asks Shiro for the keys and takes the bike from him so he can wheel it into his workspace.

Once he has it set up, he has Shiro follow him to the office. “I’m going to need to go through it and figure out everything I need to do. I’m a mechanic, I don’t do bodywork, but once I get the innards fixed I can refer you to the best body shop in town.”

Shiro nods at that. They reach the office and Keith gestures to their receptionist who sits behind a small desk with a computer perched on top. “Romelle will take care of you from here.”

“Thank you, Keith. I appreciate your help.”

“Of course, it’s my job.”

The look on Shiro’s face is imperceptible. “Well, yes. But I mean—damn it. Do I leave my number with Romelle for you to call me about my bike?”

Keith doesn’t miss the curious look Romelle shoots at him from behind Shiro’s back. She mouths something to him along the lines of give him your number! And he pretends like he didn’t see it.

“Here, you can give it to me. I’ll text you once I have an estimate.”

Shiro’s grin practically splits his face in half and Keith’s heart nearly stops. “Great! Hand me your phone?”

Keith complies and Romelle gives a silent shriek of excitement. They chat for another few minutes to settle everything and get Romelle the information she needs, and when he turns to leave he gives Keith a playful wink before he walks out the door and back to his truck.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, Romelle turns on Keith. “You just got his number!”

“Yes?” 

She blinks, her expression as unimpressed as Keith has ever seen it. “You have no idea who he is, do you?”

“He’s Shiro. He just said so.”

“Keith!” Romelle groans and tosses the folder she’s holding onto the surface of her desk. “That’s Takashi Shirogane!” 

Keith’s blank stare somehow only infuriates her more. “He’s a famous model! Have you never seen a copy of Men’s Fitness or any of those motorcycle magazines Kolivan has in the waiting area?”

He shakes his head and Romelle throws her hands up in frustration. “Unbelievable! You didn’t just have a celebrity encounter, you had an entire conversation with him, got his number, and it was completely wasted on you!”

She storms away at that, mumbling about idiots not deserving such good luck, while Keith simply blinks at her retreating back and wonders what the fuck just happened.

  
  


* * *

A few days pass and Keith finds himself in the shop again, getting what he hopes is the final tally of everything he’ll need to repair Shiro’s bike. List in hand, he heads to the office to look up the prices and nearly gags when he sees the total.

The cost of the repairs alone could pay for Keith’s tuition and he suddenly wonders how serious Shiro was when he said money wouldn’t be an issue. To be safe, he jots down a few different options at a lower price point before sending the information to Shiro.

He gets a text back nearly immediately.  _ Great! Go ahead and do the most expensive option, I want my baby to run to her full potential. _

Keith stares at his phone, not sure he believes it. But whatever, he has it in writing now so if Shiro comes back and yells about the cost later, he has that on his side.

His phone dings again and Keith is surprised to see another message from Shiro. 

_ Are you busy this weekend?  _

That throws Keith off, but he recovers after a second and begins to type out a response. He tells himself Shiro just wants to come check on the bike, nothing more, but his hindbrain is screaming at him that this isn’t about the damn bike.

_ That depends. Why do you ask? _

The three dots appear in the bottom left of his screen the instant he sends the message. 

_ If you’ll let me, I’d love to take you to dinner. _

Keith’s heart jumps out of his chest. His brain reads the message over and over again but refuses to comprehend it. There’s no way Shiro simply wants to take him to dinner without an ulterior motive. What the hell would ever possess a model to want to go on a date with him anyway?

He must take too long to respond because Shiro sends him another message.  _ But please don’t feel obligated if it makes you uncomfortable at all.  _

Taking a deep breath, Keith takes the plunge and replies.

_ Yeah, I’d like that. _

His heart is pounding so fast he’s afraid it will jump straight out of his chest as they go back and forth a bit more on making plans. Once they agree on a time, Keith returns to his workstation to get started on Shiro’s bike. 

It’s almost an hour later before it really sinks in that he has a date on Friday. With Shiro.

He just hopes he can make it until then without panicking.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Keith is fidgeting with the hem of his shirt sleeve while he waits inside his apartment for the text that Shiro’s arrived. He actively avoids the pile of Men’s Fitness and various motorcycle magazines he lifted from the lobby at Kolivan’s in the excuse of learning more about Shiro. 

Romelle wasn’t lying about Shiro being a well known model. In the span of just a few days Keith has realized that Shiro has done every kind of modeling from fitness, to automobiles, to men’s fashion, to underwear. And although Keith will deny that he saved a few of the ads Shiro’s done for Calvin Klein, he admits that he’s found himself both more intrigued by Shiro and more attracted to him at the same time. He wants to find out how Shiro went from the military to modeling after the accident that cost him his arm, but none of the sources he finds say what exactly happened.

He doesn’t get to spend too much time pondering though, as Shiro shows up at 7 o’clock sharp. 

The roar of the car gives Shiro away before Keith sees him. A black Ferrari pulls up in front of his old, crappy apartment building, the yellow insignia with the rearing black horse unmistakable. If Keith didn’t know for a fact it was Shiro in that car, he would swear that this was just somebody who had gotten horribly lost.

When Shiro steps out of the car dressed in an expensive suit with lines that flatter every inch of his already attractive body, Keith is overcome with a wave of self-consciousness in his ripped jeans, his single dress shirt in the form of a red button up, and beat up old Converse high tops.

He doesn’t miss the once over he gets from Shiro and finds himself wanting nothing more than to disappear inside of himself. When Shiro speaks, though, Keith can’t decide if he feels better or worse.

“I hate to be that guy but uh, where we’re going tonight has a dress code.” Shiro scratches the back of his head and at least has the decency to look sheepish while he says it.

Keith’s face falls instantly. “This is the nicest outfit I own.”

Shiro picks up on the subtext.  _ This is the nicest outfit I can afford _ . “Well, that’s easily fixed.”

Keith blinks, unsure of how to respond to that. But when Shiro opens the passenger door to the Ferrari, he doesn’t think, just slides in.

As soon as he’s buckled in, Shiro pulls out of the parking lot and makes a turn toward downtown. 

“Nice car.” Keith hopes Shiro doesn’t notice the nervous crack in his voice.

The smile Shiro gives him is so ridiculous that Keith swears his heart stops for a second. Something about it is so unguarded and genuine that Keith finds himself wishing he could see it every day. “She’s a real beauty, right? I always dreamed of owning a Ferarri when I was a little kid. It took a while to get to the point where I could afford it, but it was the first nice thing I bought myself after I got my big break.”

Keith wants to say that’s nice but it sounds insincere, even to himself. Instead, he goes with, “Too bad you couldn’t get it in the classic red.”

That gets a groan out of Shiro. “God, do not tell me you’re some crazy purist.”

“Nah. I just like red.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They lapse into silence after that, and Keith takes the time to revel in the beauty of the car. Even from the passenger seat, he can feel the horsepower vibrating through the leather. A primal part of his brain wonders what it would be like to be fucked in a car this nice, but he quickly squashes that thought. Any potential sexual encounters with Shiro will have to come later.

Shiro pulls into a parking lot then, and Keith shoots him a confused look. They aren’t at a restaurant, but rather a high end clothing store Keith has only ever driven by, let alone dared to dream about going inside.

“Why are we here?” Keith asks as he watches Shiro climb out of the car. 

“To buy you a suit.”

“I can’t afford a suit from here. I can’t even afford a suit from TJ Maxx.”

Shiro then grasps him on the shoulder and steers him towards the entrance. “Don’t worry about that. I’m buying.”

Keith blanches and tries to duck out from Shiro’s grip. “What? No! I can’t let you do that!”

“I’m not asking, Keith. I’m doing it because I want to.”

Their eyes meet in an even match of stubbornness. Shiro ends up being the first to back down, but only because by then they’ve entered the store and a sales person with blonde hair and a fake smile plastered on her face greets them and asks if they need help.

Shiro doesn’t even give Keith the chance to reply, simply says, “My friend here is in need of a suit.”

“Well we can certainly help with that! Right this way, please.”

Keith glares at Shiro but follows the lady into the area where the suits are. After that, he’s not entirely sure what happens, but he’s measured, shown about a hundred suits that all look almost identical to each other, and by the end of it he’s wearing a fitted black suit with a red tie and red pocket square.

“He’ll wear this one out of the store.” Shiro grins at the sales person as he hands her his credit card. Keith wants to protest, but when he sees his reflection in the mirror, he can’t help but admit that he really does look fantastic in this suit. Shiro has great taste.

They leave the store with several bags full of clothing that cost as much as most people spend on a house. Keith protests the entire way but Shiro will hear none of it as he loads the bags into the trunk of the car. By the time they arrive at the restaurant, Keith is trying to convince Shiro to at least let him pay for half of the food bill.

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice is stern. “Be honest with me. Can you actually afford that?”

He doesn’t answer right away, his mouth set in a thin line. After a minute though, he realizes Shiro is right. “No, I can’t.” He grumbles so low he doesn’t think Shiro can even hear it.

Shiro raises an eyebrow at him. They’re sitting in the car just outside of where the valet collects the keys, and the only thing Keith can think about is  _ Damn it, didn’t even make it to dinner and I’ve fucked this up! _

Finally, Shiro breaks eye contact and pulls up to the valet. “Keith, please, I want to treat you to all of this. It’s—I know it’s bad, but it’s the only way I know how to show affection for people.” 

When Keith looks up, Shiro’s gaze is downcast, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. He feels the frustration that had been building up inside of him dissipate, and instead focuses on how cute Shiro looks. It works.

“Okay.” He replies, and Shiro flashes him a grateful look. 

They walk into the restaurant and Keith is surprised to see the maitre’d spring into action before Shiro has even given his name. One of those moments where he remembers, intellectually, that Shiro is famous, but the detail somehow slips his mind anyway.

They’re seated at a secluded table in the back of the restaurant, far away from prying eyes but also not close to either the kitchen or bathrooms. Menus are brought to them, full of words Keith can’t even begin to pronounce, and after a quick exchange with the sommelier, an expensive bottle of wine is produced. Keith, knowing absolutely nothing about wine other than the boxed stuff people bring to parties, waits for Shiro to take the first sip before following suit. But when Shiro grabs the glass, instead of drinking the wine straight away, he swirls it around his glass and sniffs it first. 

“Am I supposed to do that too?” Keith asks quietly, hoping not to insult anybody who may overhear them.

“It’s considered good taste but I won’t rat you out if you don’t.” Shiro places his glass back down, his expression reassuring. 

Keith nods, looking intensely at the glass of red liquid in his hand. He swirls it briefly, then takes a sniff like Shiro had done. He has no clue what he’s supposed to be smelling though, so after a moment he finally takes his first sip.

“Oh wow. That’s amazing!” Keith can tell his eyes are comically huge as he looks at the glass in his hand. 

Shiro gives a light laugh at that. “It’s my favorite wine. I always make sure to get a bottle or two when I’m here.”

Keith can understand that. But a small voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he’ll never be able to afford a glass, let alone entire bottle, of a wine this nice and so he should enjoy it while he can.

“So what are you studying?” Shiro’s voice breaks through Keith’s thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

“Oh.” He blinks, hoping Shiro doesn’t notice he was spaced out. “Astrophysics.”

Shiro lets out a low whistle. “That’s intense.”

“It is, but I really love it. My dad and I used to spend so much time looking up at the stars and talking about space, it’s just a passion that’s really stuck with me.”

“Your dad sounds like a great guy for encouraging you to pursue your dreams.”

“Yeah. He was the best.”

There’s a brief flash of sadness that crosses Shiro’s face as he catches the change in verb tense. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He’s been gone a long time.”

Silence lapses over them after that, unsure of where to turn the conversation. Keith is searching his mind for something, anything to talk about that isn’t sad or about his dead dad, but thankfully Shiro beats him to it. 

“How did you end up working for Kolivan?”

Keith can’t help but grin widely at that. “He took me in after my dad died and Mom got deployed overseas in the army. He and my mom have known each other since they were kids so he’s basically my stepdad.”

Shiro offers the next bit of small talk, much to Keith’s relief. He’s never been good with idle chatter, and listening to Shiro launch into a whole explanation about how he was raised by his grandparents takes some of the pressure off Keith. A waiter comes to take their orders at some point, and Keith lets Shiro order for him since he has absolutely no idea what any of the menu items are anyway. By the time the meal arrives, Keith has learned all about Shiro’s stint in the military and how he fell into modeling even though he never planned on it, especially after losing his arm. 

To absolutely no surprise, Keith is blown away by the quality of the food. He’s never tasted such tender, juicy steak (Kobe beef, Shiro supplies, the most expensive kind in the world), and although he’s never had any other lobster to compare the tail that’s served beside it on his dish, he can tell it’s extraordinary from the smell of butter and seasonings alone.

The dinner ends with Keith full, more than a little tipsy, and relaxed and feeling like he’s known Shiro for years rather than just days. And despite his best efforts and whines of “this is too much!”, Shiro doesn’t allow him to see the total for the bill and throws a credit card down before Keith can snatch the bill away.

Walking out of the restaurant and back to the valet to pick up the car is surreal for Keith. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but he isn’t ready for the night to be over. Getting in the car means Shiro will drive him back to his apartment, where they’ll say goodbye, and Keith is sure Shiro will never call him again. After all, what can a broke college student possibly have to offer that would keep Shiro around?

“Keith, I didn’t ask you out because of your financial status. I asked you out because I legitimately like you.”

Oh fuck, had Keith said that last bit out loud?

Keith opens his mouth to say something in an attempt to save what little dignity he has left, but at that point the valet has returned with the car and is handing Shiro the keys.

The drive back to Keith’s is silent after that, and much shorter without the detour of stopping to buy expensive clothes Keith is sure he’ll never have a reason to wear again. When they pull into the parking lot in front of Keith’s building, Shiro doesn’t kill the engine right away. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, as if deep in thought. Or maybe it was just nerves, but Keith has a hard time believing someone as amazingly attractive and wealthy as Shiro could ever be nervous on a date.

“Thank you for everything, tonight.” Keith breaks the silence, hoping to ease some of the tension that’s built up around them. “I had a great time.”

Shiro visibly relaxes at that. “I’m glad to hear that. Don’t forget your clothes are in the trunk.”

Keith can’t help but bark out a laugh at that. “Shiro, there was no reason to buy me such nice clothes. I’ll never have an excuse to wear them again.”

He might imagine it, but a flash of what he thinks might be fear crosses Shiro’s face. But it’s gone as soon as he notices and then Shiro is asking, “But what if I take you out somewhere nice again?”

Keith smiles as the words leave Shiro’s mouth. “I’d love that.”

Shiro doesn’t respond to that, and instead leans closer to Keith. Their faces are mere inches apart, their breath mingling as they stare at each other. Keith isn’t sure if he should close the gap between them, doesn’t want to think he’s reading too much into it. But when Shiro asks, “Can I kiss—“ Keith surges up so their lips meet before he can even finish the sentence.

It’s as if all of Keith’s higher thinking disappears the second their lips collide. He no longer remembers objectively how to kiss, and freezes as he begins to panic. Thankfully, Shiro takes the lead and once his lips start moving against Keith’s, all the tension releases from his body and he melts into it.

They make out lazily at first, tentative and exploring as they get a feel for each other. But after a couple of minutes, the heat kicks up a few degrees and they’re deepening it, mouths open and tongues darting between lips and teeth nipping where they can reach. It isn’t until Shiro leans over him to pull the lever that causes Keith’s seat to fall all the way back that his brain remembers where they’re at.

Painfully, he pulls away from Shiro’s mouth. “We’re in the middle of the parking lot. I don’t want to give my neighbors an eyeful.”

Shiro grunts in response, which Keith interprets to mean ‘ugh, you’re right.’ But when he pulls back Keith can see that he’s smiling.

“So,” Shiro’s voice is so calm after such a heavy make-out session, Keith has no idea how he does it. “When can I see you again?”

“I’m free on Sunday.” Keith regrets not freeing up his schedule for Saturday, but it’s the busiest day at the shop and he knows that Kolivan needs the help. Besides, would offering to see Shiro the day after their first date be too desperate? Probably.

“Sunday it is.” Shiro says, his voice cutting through Keith’s overactive mind.

They kiss again, more chaste this time, and Keith has to physically drag himself out of the car to retrieve his bags of clothes before making his way up the stairs to his apartment. He can still see Shiro as he digs his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door, and gives him another wave goodbye as Shiro finally drives off.

Sunday already can’t come soon enough and Keith knows tomorrow is going to be absolute hell for him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FoxyLovesFandom)!


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